


Strings

by VarjoRuusu



Category: Black Sails
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Connections, F/M, Flint & Vane have a very grudging friendship, Flint/Silver if you squint very hard, Full series AU, Gen, M/M, Most characters are only mentioned, Not that there are any spoilers left, Red String of Fate, Season 4 Spoilers, Soul Bond, Strings - Freeform, but just in case, ish
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-23
Updated: 2017-04-23
Packaged: 2018-10-23 05:49:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,931
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10713480
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VarjoRuusu/pseuds/VarjoRuusu
Summary: Generally more common, a Red string was a deep love connection that went beyond physical intimacy. Perhaps surprisingly given the general situation, the most common string color in Nassau was Green, varying shades indicating friendship, trust, loyalty. Very few people had Blue strings, leading them to their blood related families, wherever they may be. Very few people in Nassau had any family left. Gold was the rarest of the colors, the color of a predestined soulmate that you could do nothing to avoid. No matter what you did, who you loved, what choices you made, you would meet whoever was on the other end of that string one day. Two ends of a Gold string meeting had never been avoided, to Flint's knowledge, and there was nothing that anyone could do to break a Gold string. Heaven knows, Flint had tried.





	Strings

**Author's Note:**

> This got away from me so badly.

Flint raised an eyebrow as he watched the two men who entered the tavern. The taller one was glowering, fists clenched and eyes pointed right ahead while the shorter man was talking, chattering really, his body angled toward the other as if it would make a word he said more likely to be heard.

Flint narrowed his eyes as he caught a flash of dark Green between the two men and he had to hide his laugh in his mug of ale. Today was a day filled with surprises and seeing a Green string dancing between Jack Rackham and Charles Vane was probably the least surprising of the bunch. Flint twisted his head around a little to watch the other end of Jack's Red string, Anne Bonny, following them into the tavern, her face less than amused.

Flint signed, returning to his cup and staring at it as he quietly watched the various strings around the tavern out of the corner of his eye.

Flint was a rarity, what they called a String-Seer, but he wasn't just a String-Seer, he was also a String-Cutter. He had only done it two or three times, to people he had truly hated, but every time had left him feeling sick. He hadn't meant to, the first time, when he was just a boy. He had been in a fight with another boy and had grabbed at the Red string coming out of his chest out of pure instinct, never imaging it would snap in his hand, leaving the boy on the ground howling. He'd run and never looked back, never told anyone.

Miranda had known, she had coaxed the story from him one late night, after plying him with wine in the hopes that he might share some of his dark secrets. Then, after Thomas, she had asked him to kill Alfred Hamilton, but first she wanted him to break every string the man had. He'd done it too, even though it had left him feeling like he was going to throw up. Not the killing, the killing didn't bother him at all, not after what the man had done to his own son, to Thomas, but ripping the strings out had felt so wrong he couldn't even describe it.

He had been wise to keep it to himself growing up, with the stories he'd heard. String-Seers were treated like kings, worshipped as soothsayers, but String-Cutters were treated like slaves, forced to break strings for fathers that wanted to marry their daughters to whomever they wished, or wives who had multiple lovers and wanted one's string removed, men who wanted an advantage in battle could demand their enemies’ strings cut, the reasons were endless, but it was all done in secret, in back rooms of taverns and brothels. String-Cutting was the worst crime known to man and anyone found to be involved was usually swiftly executed.

“Captain, you're needed on the ship!” Billy called from across the room and Flint sighed, knocking back the last of his ale and standing, tossing a coin on the bar.

He glanced at Jack and Charles as he passed, Charles now glaring directly at the shorter man, with his arms crossed, unimpressed sneer still on his face as Jack continued on with whatever tirade had caught his fancy, hands waving. Anne caught Flint’s eye and he winked, eyes darting to the Green string and she rolled her eyes. For all their rarity, String-Seers seemed to have a way of collecting around one another. Flint had found out that she was one three years before, when she had marched right up to him and asked why the hell he had a Gold string and what the fuck it meant.

Generally more common, a Red string was a deep love connection that went beyond physical intimacy. Perhaps surprisingly given the general situation, the most common string color in Nassau was Green, varying shades indicating friendship, trust, loyalty. Very few people had Blue strings, leading them to their blood related families, wherever they may be. Very few people in Nassau had any family left. Gold was the rarest of the colors, the color of a predestined soulmate that you could do nothing to avoid. No matter what you did, who you loved, what choices you made, you would meet whoever was on the other end of that string one day. Two ends of a Gold string meeting had never been avoided, to Flint's knowledge, and there was nothing that anyone could do to break a Gold string. Heaven knows, Flint had tried.

He had three strings left, one a pale Pink that led to Miranda, one a pale Blue that led back to England, and one unbreakable Gold, that stood out like a beacon. He had no Green strings, he knew no one trusted him enough and he knew he didn't trust anyone enough for that connection to form.

The Gold string hadn't connected him to Thomas, and when Thomas had been ripped away from him, when the deep Maroon string had been ruthlessly severed by another String-Cutter, Flint had tried everything in his power to cut the Gold string. He hadn't wanted what was at the other end of it before he met Thomas and after there was no question. He vowed that no matter what happened, when he met the other end of that cursed Gold string, he would kill its owner without a moments hesitation.

He didn't expect the feeling that slammed through him when he looked up to meet eyes bluer than the sea. He wasn't ready to feel like he had been hit by blast from a canon or forgotten how to breath. Of all the people in all the world that fucking Gold string could have lashed him to, it was this conniving, lying, thieving little shit. He stole the schedule, then he tried to sell it. And he lied about it. Again, and again, and again. There was no end to his lies.

It would be so easy, Flint thought, when he had Silver trapped against the rocks. Just press the knife down a little. It was all he needed to do and he would stay true to the vow he made to end it. But the little shit had burned the schedule, and if Flint was to have any chance at taking the prize held in the bowels of the _Urca de Lima_ , he needed this galling scrap of a boy alive. He snarled once more before he pulled the blade back and shoved Silver at Billy to truss up and take back to the ship, where he'd be put in irons in the darkest room they could find.

-:-:-

He wanted to kill Silver for pulling him from the water, he really did. Flint sighed, leaning against his desk, his head pounding, and struggled to remember that Silver had saved his life, a commendable act even if Flint hadn't wanted saving in the first place. As a result, they were now in possession of a Spanish Man 'O War and they knew the location of the wrecked _Urca de Lima_. Even so, the presence of the other man and the Gold string attached to him irritated Flint to no end. He vowed that even though he'd had to put it off, when this hunt was over and the treasure was his, John Silver would die.

“Why do you hate me so much?” Silver asked later that same day, as they were sailing back into port aboard the stolen ship. He was standing beside Flint on the deck as they watched Nassau draw closer. Flint turned to him, eyebrows raised, wondering why it wasn't more obvious. The Gold string pulsed between them and Flint’s eyes widened as he realized Silver must not be able to see it. He wouldn't have had to ask if he could. He opened his mouth to say something, he wasn't sure what, when a shout distracted his attention.

“Captain!” a voice called. “There's trouble!"

  


“Glass,” Flint snapped, stepping up to the rail. Camped all along the beach were Benjamin Hornigold and his men. Atop Nassau's fort flew the flag of Charles Vane, and Flint cursed. Damnation that man would be the end of all of them. Vane was as ambitious as any of them, but he lacked patience.

“Drop anchor,” he snarled. “Make ready the launch. Silver, with me, we're going ashore.”

Sparing a moment to watch Silver as they were rowed ashore, Flint realized that the boy had no idea. If he couldn't see the Gold string, he would have no inkling as to why Flint hated him so much. The part of him that was still the man he had been before made sure to point out that Flint was being unfair, based on his own injuries and past. Reluctantly he decided perhaps he could give the boy a chance to at least earn his place on the crew.

His attention was drawn away from the thorn in his side when he turned back to the beach and his eyes landed on the last person he expected to see, Miranda Hamilton, the woman his men knew as Mrs. Barlow. She informed him that Vane had killed a pirate by the name of Ned Low and stolen his cargo, but that wasn't important, what was important, was that the cargo was a girl, by the name of Abigail Ashe.

Flint shook his head, unable to believe his ears. Abigail Ashe, the daughter of Peter Ashe, their partner in the original endeavour to return Nassau to being a civilized British colony, more than ten years before. He hadn't seen the man since he and Miranda had fled England, and he wasn't sure he ever wanted to lay eyes on him again, certainly not now that he was the governor of Charleston and a renowned pirate hanger. It was like as not that the moment they set foot in the town with the girl they'd both be killed.

Eleanor Guthrie wanted Vane out of the fort by any means, including cannon fire and explosions, but eventually Miranda talked them all around and Eleanor volunteered to go into the tunnels and sneak the girl out from under Vane's nose. Flint noticed, as they talked, that the Red string between Eleanor and Vane was still there, only these days it was a sickly color tinted by Black. Anne noticed too, hovering behind Jack, who had not been privy to Charles' latest scheme, though most times they were all connected at the hip.

It really didn't bother him, leaving Vane penned up in the fort after sneaking out the Ashe girl. Even if it was likely that Vane's words to Eleanor about his crew stringing him up for letting the girl escape were probably true. Honestly, Charles Vane had never done anything for Flint that wasn't a complete hindrance, and he'd certainly caused more trouble than he was worth.

So Flint sailed for Charlestown, trying to ignore how his past was creeping up on him, how thoughts of Thomas were beginning to surface, how he couldn't ignore them with Miranda at his side. But he couldn't ignore the feeling in the pit of his stomach telling him everything was about to go very, very wrong, and that this was one of the worst ideas he had ever gone along with.

-:-:-

To find out later that Peter Ashe was the one who had betrayed them all those years ago had set Flint's blood boiling, but it was what happened next that truly broke him. Flint watched as Miranda fell to the floor, the Pink string between them flickering and vanishing, the scream lodged in his throat. He couldn't think, couldn't see as they dragged him from the room and threw him in a cell.

It was over, he realized when his mind came back to him, there was nothing left to fight for. Nassau could go fuck itself for all Flint cared. They could just hang him and be done with it. He could be with Thomas again that way. There was no more point in living, in paying attention to anything they said at this 'trial' they were holding. No reason for any of it.

So when Charles Vane, of all people, showed up and surrendered, they slapped chains on him and sat him in the chair next to Flint. Flint raised an eyebrow but didn't show any other emotion towards the other pirate who he had expected to be long dead.

“We're getting out of here,” Vane said, even though Flint ignored him. “Where's the Barlow woman?”

Flint looked at Vane, saw the seriousness on his face, the honest desire to rescue him, then jerked his head. Vane looked past him and saw the coffin on display for the whole town and he sighed. Then he twitched, glancing down, his eyes narrowing.

“Christ, not you too,” Vane growled and Flint glanced at him before his eyes snapped to the new Green string stretching between them. He smirked, then grinned, all his teeth showing.

“It's your own fault for coming back for me,” he said quietly. “Though how you expect to get us out of here with a teenage girl’s diary is beyond me.”

“Just wait,” Vane smirked as he stood, interrupting the man reading. Moments later explosions rocked the town and Flint had to admit, he was impressed.

Minutes ago James Flint had nothing to live for. He saw no escape, so he wasn't ready to even try. The explosions surrounding them made his blood sing, even as Charles tossed him a sword and his caught it automatically, he realized he could live. He could have his revenge for Miranda, he could complete his revenge for Thomas. He could burn Charlestown to the fucking ground, and then he would return to Nassau and make sure the British never took her back.

The sword in his hand felt right, Flint thought briefly as they cut their way through soldiers and lords alike, fighting their way toward the harbor. It felt like being home again, the rage, the killing. Mid-swing Flint stumbled as a terror that wasn't his own shot through him and he watched as his Gold string pulsed and flickered, almost as if it were writhing in agony.

“What's the matter with you?” Vane growled, grabbing Flint's arm and dragging him into an alleyway, out of the fighting. Flint couldn't answer, instead taking Vane's wrist and holding the other mans hand over his heart, the one thing that allowed someone to share his gift of seeing other people's strings.

“Shit,” was all Vane managed when he saw the Gold string and how it flickered. “Do you know-?”

“Silver,” Flint managed to grind out. “He doesn't even know, he can't see it.”

“Shit,” Vane said again and hoisted Flint by the arm, practically dragging him toward the harbor.

By the time they made it to the ship, the string had settled, but its light was dimmer. The fact that it was still there meant Silver was alive, but he was in bad shape.

“Where is Silver?” Flint rasped as soon as Billy had finished his report of how Vane's men had tried to sail the ship away.

“There was an...incident,” he said quietly, nodding his head for them to follow.

Flint and Vane went after Billy into the ship, into the doctor’s quarters to find four men holding down Silver, while Howell cauterized what remained of his left leg. Flint felt bile rising in his throat almost as fast as the rage in his heart.

“Who did this?” Vane barked. “Where is he?”

“Your quartermaster,” Billy said. “He's dead. I killed him.”

“I couldn't save the leg,” Howell said, dousing the wound with rum to clean it, causing Silver to scream. Flint darted forward and laid his hands on the other man's shoulders, holding him down and trying to calm him. Immediately Silver settled and more than half the tension drained from his body. Flint grimaced as if he were in pain and Vane's eye widened, guessing that somehow the Gold string was letting Flint take some of the pain away.

“Who helped him?” he growled, turning to Billy. “He didn't do this on his own.”

“Four other men, we have them below,” Billy nodded.

“Show me,” Vane commanded, fully intent on killing them slowly and painfully, every last one of them.

“Charles,” a voice stopped him. He glanced back at Flint, who was watching him with steely eyes. “Save one or two for me.” Vane nodded and left, Billy trailing behind him, his face betraying his confusion, but his mouth kept wisely shut.

-:-:-

By the point when Silver finally admitted that he lied about the _Urca_ treasure, when they were alone in a rowboat, ship stranded in the doldrums, Flint was not really surprised. He was bothered, but not shocked that yet another lie had laid between them. As he rowed them and their two shark prizes back to the ship, he frowned at the Gold string between them, wondering if this time when he tried to break it, it might snap. He shook his head as they reached the ship, not caring enough to even respond to anything Silver was saying, or waste any of the little energy he had left on it.

He watched the men milling around the deck as the sharks were hauled up and pieces of meat cut away from them. He watched in a fog as Green strings bobbed around, and he followed the Gold as Silver collapsed on the deck across from him. Their eyes met and Silver's mouth turned down, as if he were apologizing. Flint just barely shrugged, not really interested in ever bringing it up again. He turned his eyes to the Green string and wondered what trouble Charles was getting into. The light was flickering as the wind began to pick up and fill the sails for the first time in almost three weeks.

-:-:-

When the wind shifted, they stumbled upon the Maroons, Flint watching in fascination as Silver developed a new string, a Red, to the daughter of the woman they call Queen. His own Green string had stabilized and he spared a moment of relief that Charles was still alive. There was no time to dwell on it, not with the trouble they would have getting out of the situation they were in. First nearly starved to death, now captured by a colony of former slaves.

When they returned to Nassau at last, between Flint and Silver having talked their way into a new partnership, everything was upside down. Eleanor was alive, after being arrested and sent to England for trial, and was at the side of the new governor, Woods Rogers, who had Jack in custody and plans to use him for leverage to acquire the cache of gold that Max, Jack, and Anne had stashed away.

It was good to see Charles again, even if he was out for blood, raging at every turn and hardly human anymore. He'd developed a Green string to Anne now and Flint chuckled while Charles glared. Everything was going according to plan for a rescue until Anne and Jack arrived on the beach alone. Billy stepped in to convince Flint that he was needed more on the ship right now and he glanced over the hill where his, and Anne's, and Jack's Green strings all disappeared. Finally he nodded, knowing it was a mistake. Knowing he likely would never see Charles Vane again. He whispered an apology as he turned away from his horse and boarded the launch back to the ship.

Days later, when he'd just finished burying the cache back on the Maroon island, just finished telling Silver the truth about Thomas, and Miranda, the Green began to flicker.

“What's wrong?” Silver asked, noting Flint's clenched hands and gritted teeth in the firelight.

“Charles is dead,” Flint said quietly, having just watched their Green string flicker and dim until it disappeared completely.

“How do you know?”

Flint raised an eyebrow, turning to look at Silver out of the corner of his eyes. “You can't see strings, can you? Not even your own?” Silver shook his head.

“I've never seen them,” he said quietly. “I've never had any family, so no Blue, I've never had a lover I cared for, so no Red, I've never trusted anyone enough, or given them reason to trust me, so no Green. Certainly never a Gold,” he shrugged, his face unbothered but the hitch in his voice betraying him.

“When he came ashore to rescue me at Charlestown, a Green appeared,” Flint said softly, staring at the empty space where the Green string had been. “I hadn't expected it, but we'd managed to at least grudgingly respect each other by that point,” he chuckled. “It grew stronger over the months between but now...”

“It's gone?” Silver asked softly and Flint nodded. He glanced at his strings, realizing slowly that there were only two left. Charles' had replaced Miranda's so quickly that Flint had never had to think about how he was missing a string. A pale Blue string stretched toward England, a half sister who didn't even know who he was, only that he existed, and the Gold shone brightly as it connected to Silver, only inches away. All Flint had left now.

Silver was staring out at the sea, unaware of the strings that surrounded him. He had one from almost every man in the crew and they were all the bright Green of trust. Flint shook his head, almost laughing at the absurdity, given the circumstances under which Silver had come to the crew. It was the fact that Silver thought he had no strings at all that convinced Flint he really couldn't see them. If he could, he would have mentioned the Greens. He would have been proud of them. Underneath them all, he too had a pale Blue indicating a half sibling somewhere. It wasn't uncommon, especially if Silver had never known his father. The more surprising was that there was only one. Right beside the Gold was the Red that Flint had watched appear the first time Silver had laid eyes on Madi Scott.

Flint considered for a minute before he turned his torso more toward Silver, catching the mans eyes in the dim light.

“Would you like to see something?” he asked, knowing that if he shared this, if he showed Silver, he'd be revealing everything to him, including their Gold string.

“See what?” Silver asked, suddenly suspicious.

“I'm a String-Seer,” Flint said quietly. “I can show you yours.”

“But I don't have any,” Silver said in confusion and Flint shook his head.

“For some reason you can't see them, but they're there,” he said. “Give me your hand.”

Reluctantly, it seemed, Silver held out his hand, laying the back in Flint's open palm and Flint pulled him closer, turning his hand and laying it directly over his heart. Silver blinked, raising his other hand to shade his eyes, his mouth dropping open as he took in the bright cluster of Green. His eyes followed the Blue out to sea, then the Red inland, before he returned to the Gold and started at where it disappeared into Flint.

“Jesus,” he whispered quietly, his fingers flexing against Flint's chest. “I had no idea.”

“I know,” Flint said quietly. “That day you asked me why I hated you, I realized you couldn't see it. You wouldn't have said that if you could,” he whispered. “You'd just have brought it right into the conversation.”

“They're beautiful,” Silver said reverently.

“There may have been a time in my life when I agreed with you,” Flint said quietly, thinking of Thomas. “I've always considered them to be too much of a burden, too much like trying to control my destiny.”

“You mean because of the Gold?” Silver asked and Flint nodded.

“I tried to break it,” he admitted quietly. “I couldn't.”

Silver smiled sadly. “I'm sorry it caused you pain, but I'm glad you didn't,” he said softly, his thumb brushing back and forth across Flint's heart as he watched the bright glow of the strings around him pulsing gently, as if they had their own heartbeat.

Flint chuckled ruefully as he thought of the day he had literally taken Silver's pain, the day he'd lost his leg. He'd never felt anything so excruciating, but it had eased the pain in his heart to take some of that physical burden away and he'd never regretted it.

“What are you going to do now?” Silver asked quietly, his eyes never leaving the Gold string between them. Flint sighed deeply, his hand tightening where it still lay over Silver's.

“I'm going to destroy Woods Rogers and I'm going to burn Nassau to the fucking ground,” he growled. “For everyone I ever lost, for everyone I ever cared about, I am going to destroy whole fucking world if I have to.”

Silver chuckled. “Burning the world won't bring them back,” he said quietly and Flint nodded.

“But I will feel better for it,” he said and Silver shook his head.

“This will destroy you,” he said quietly.

In the end it almost destroyed them both.

-:-:-

“You did this?” Flint asked, his eyes never leaving Thomas. Even from this distance, he could recognize the man he had once loved so deeply, even after so many years, after everything that had changed.

“Max mentioned to me that there was a plantation in the Americas, where the high society of Europe sent their problems. Mad men, disgraces to society, trouble makers. Sodomites,” he said quietly. “I sent a man to inquire, after you told me the story. When he returned he brought news that Thomas Hamilton was indeed alive, and has been here for the last eight years.”

“Why?” Flint asked, turning to Silver. Silver looked uncomfortable for a moment and glanced away.

“I believe,” Silver said, reaching his hand out to lay over Flint's heart. “That this string that connects us, led you to me because that was what you needed. I do not believe it is meant to keep us together for the rest of our lives. Can you imagine? We'd kill one another,” he grinned.

Flint chuckled darkly, thinking of how Silver had said they would be each other's ruin. “Thank you,” he said softly and Silver nodded.

“If you ever feel the need to return to the sea...” Silver said, trailing off before he grinned. “Please, don't look me up.”

Flint snorted, then broke into a full laugh, dragging the other man into a crushing embrace.

“I think I may miss you,” he admitted quietly into Silver's hair. He felt Silver chuckle against him as they parted.

“You'll get over it,” he said with a smirk as he turned and hobbled away. Flint turned back toward Thomas when Silver's voice reached him one last time.

“James,” he called and Flint turned again, surprised to hear his given name. “I hope the Red comes back.”

Flint nodded, fighting back tears as he turned and walked forward, towards the man whose loss had created so many problems, so much destruction, still hardly able to believe he was alive and here, within Flint's reach. As he walked a Red string floated out of him, preceding him as he made his way through the field. Thomas straightened up as a Red string tugged on him and he turned to see Flint coming, watching in frozen awe as their strings met and remade itself into one as it had never been broken. Then their arms were around each other and Flint stopped trying to hold back his tears.

-:-:-

Fifteen years later Long John Silver sat in a dark corner of the Admiral Benbow Inn, his eyes on the treacherous Billy Bones, who, though he was looking for Silver in every shadow, hadn't seen the other man trailing him in years. He spent too much time looking over his shoulder, when the other man had been steps ahead of him for longer than he could remember.

Silver was smoking a pipe quietly while he watched the old pirate and former shipmate of his, when a tug in his chest caused him to look down. Silver's eyes widened as for the first time in his life, he was able to see his own strings without the aid of a String-Seer.

All but four of the multitudes of Green strings were gone, his Blue was gone, and a faint Red that he thought must have led to Madi Scott, even after all this time, were all that remained. He watched as the Gold string pulsed gently, it's light growing dimmer with each beat, and he knew that somewhere, James McGraw lay dying. He knew now that this was what Flint had seen the day they hung Charles Vane in Nassau all those years ago, when Flint had clenched his hands in pain.

Silver clenched his fist now as the string pulsed once, twice, three times more and then faded away, as if it had never existed. Shutting his eyes for a moment he took a breath, then turned to lay his gaze back to Billy Bones.

He would find the map, and he would find what remained of the _Urca_ cache, and he would kill the man in front of him, once and for all. For what was a pirate without his treasure, and what was Long John Silver without his retribution?

**Author's Note:**

> I had a great deal of fun writing this, and I will tell you, it started out as a Flint/Silver, but it just wasn't working so it just became a slight canon AU and became a Flint/Thomas instead. Hope you enjoyed!
> 
> I’m on Tumblr [Beneath The Black Sails](http://www.beneaththeblacksails.tumblr.com)


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